


The Jersey

by helsinkibaby



Series: something about the way you look [4]
Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Community: 1-million-words, F/M, Fluff, Het, Romance, post ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 20:13:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30044088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Callen arrives home from the football game.
Relationships: G Callen/Nell Jones
Series: something about the way you look [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210235
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: 1 Million Words' A to Z Challenge





	The Jersey

**Author's Note:**

> Post ep for 8.06, Home is Where the Heart Is
> 
> For the a-z challenge. J is for jersey

When Callen arrives home from the football game, he’s not sure if his house will be empty or not. After all, Nell had been in the hospital earlier, thanks to the explosion at Carla James’s apartment; she could easily have decided to go back to her own place. He’d offered, as well, to take her home, stay there with her, game or no game, but she’d reminded him of his surprise for Sam, had done a pretty dead on imitation of his partner’s “football’s back in LA,” that had made Callen laugh out loud and promised him she’d be fine. 

Callen’s not going to lie - the seats were amazing, the game was great, Sam’s enthusiasm was infectious. But there was a tiny part of his brain that couldn’t stop thinking about Nell. 

When he opens the door, he smiles as he sees her laptop bag propped up against the couch, her shoes neatly placed beside it. A weight lifts from his shoulders and, as he hangs up his jacket on the coat rack she’d insisted he install, he calls out, “Nell? You here?” 

When there’s no response, he makes his way towards the back of the house. 

Which is where he stops in his tracks. 

Nell leans against the frame of his bedroom door, one arm down by her side, the other propped up against the wood. Her legs are bare, the Rams jersey she’s wearing just skimming mid-thigh, swamping her slender frame so that the neck is halfway to falling off one shoulder. 

Callen feels his jaw drop, his mouth going as dry as the Sahara. For a long moment, all he can do is stare at her and when he can speak, it’s not a lot. “Wow.” 

Nell shrugs one shoulder. The jersey slips a little more. “You weren’t the only one who got a FedEx delivery today.” 

Callen takes a step towards her. “You know, I’d never say this to Sam,” he says, “but I spent the entire game thinking that these were the ugliest shirts I’d ever seen.” Nell lifts an eyebrow but she doesn’t move as he keeps coming towards her. “I didn’t think there was anything that could make them look attractive.” He reaches her, fingers the hem of her jersey. “I was wrong.” 

Nell tilts her head up and back so she can look in his eyes, a pleased little smile hovering around her lips. “You sure?” An eyebrow is raised. “Because I can take it off. If you want.” 

His hand slips under the hem, slides slowly up her thigh, past the curve of her hip to the dip of her waist. His path meets no resistance, no material, just smooth, warm skin. She sucks in a breath, her teeth making tiny indents in her bottom lip. “No.” His voice is very low, a bare whisper really. He sees her shiver, sees goosebumps break out on her shoulder. “I think you should leave it on.” 

Nell grins as she loops her arms around his neck. Her shirt rides up with the action and he automatically slides both arms around her waist, resting his hands on the small of her back. “Your head-” he begins, mindful of her injuries from earlier today and the roll of her eyes is answer enough. “Fair enough.” He moves his hands lower, palms settling firmly on her ass, pressing her closer to him for a moment before he lifts her, her legs bracketing his waist in one smooth move. “But I promise to be gentle.” 

She almost pouts as he carries her to his bedroom. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Knowing Nell, he’d expected a response like that. Thus his brain only short circuits a little. “Just you wait, Miss Jones,” he promises, laying her down on the bed and pushing up her jersey, kissing her stomach just below her belly button. Her breath hitches and her fingers go to his hair as she arches underneath him. “Just you wait.”


End file.
